I don't own them. *sigh*

Thanks to MLC for looking over this for me!

This is for Jack63kids' birthday so the two men are great friends. Happy Birthday, Jack! :-)

It was quiet inside 221B Baker Street. With rain falling for the second day in a row and having finished a case the evening before, both men were content to spend some time with their experiments and writing while the crackling fire warmed them.

Some time before, John had decided to keep a record of their more top secret cases in a leather bound journal. It was a nice change from his laptop. No tap, tap, tapping of the keys or need to keep his eyes focused on the flickering screen in front of him, afraid he might do something wrong and have half of his work disappear right in front of him. Yes, there was something relaxing and solid when he wrote it all out by hand. The feel of his favorite pen between his left fingers, the smoothness of the paper and sometimes, when he took a moment to glance over at what he had just put down, he felt a sense of permanence as he looked at each letter in his messy writing.

He was drawn from his musings when Sherlock made a small grunting noise. John looked up from his journal and turned around in his chair to face his friend. It seemed Sherlock was now using his phone. Perhaps to find data which would help support whatever he was working on.

"Find anything interesting?"

Grey eyes looked up to meet blue ones.

"I was simply checking my email to see if anything new had come in and happened to notice the date."

It took a moment, but John was able to remember it was the twenty-ninth of January and tried to think of a reason why it should be important to the man in front of him. Of course Sherlock only gave him seconds before answer himself.

"On the twenty-ninth of January, five years ago, a certain genius consulting detective was hard at work in a lab at Bart's when a certain, relatively intelligent, army doctor was brought into the room, disturbing him."

Not wanting to let Sherlock have the upper hand for long, John shot back with, "I have it on good authority this genius can be a bit thick in the head as often as not."

Eyes twinkled in response. "I notice you didn't argue with being called relatively intelligent."

John couldn't help but chuckle. "It's hard to when I was told for so long I was an idiot like everybody else. Can't complain about moving up in the world."

Sherlock smiled before gazing absently at the living room windows.

Seeing his expression become more serious, John thought it best to intervene.

"Where's your mind wandering off to now?"

Before answering, Sherlock left the kitchen and sat down in his own chair.

"Merely thinking of how it would have been so easy for us to have that chance encounter and then go our separate ways, never to meet again. I was also wondering what my life might have been like today if such a thing had happened."

Unable to help himself, John answered. "I think you'll find you'd be dead from taking the stupid pill the cabbie gave you a short while later."

Sherlock scowled. "I chose the right one!"

"So you say but you can't ever know for sure thanks to one of Lestrade's inept team members."

"And of course you would be happily married with at least half a dozen snotty nosed children if it wasn't for me."

Sighing, John looked to the fire.

"No, I don't know if that's true. In fact, as much as I hate to admit, I think I might have done something really stupid if I hadn't met you, you mad thing."

Looking up, he saw the surprise on Sherlock's face.

"Let's be honest. I wasn't in a very good place and wouldn't have been able to stay in London. Who knows what I decision I might have made if I'd shuffled off to the slow, quiet countryside."

Not liking the panic settling on his friend, John continued on a lighter note.

"But there's no point going down such a path of thoughts. I did meet you, followed you through the streets of London and then made the insane choice of moving in with you after the case was solved. I guess, since we're both still here so Mrs. Hudson can mother hen us and we continue to bring Lestrade and your brother criminals, it wasn't such a bad idea after all."

Both men smiled at one another.

"Yes, it truly is remarkable," Sherlock agreed.

John gave his legs a good stretch before settling comfortably back into his chair.

"I always figured we were like something Carl Jung once said. The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed."

Thinking it a perfect explanation, Sherlock got up from his chair and headed towards the kitchen table, pausing for a moment to lay his right hand on John's nearby shoulder.

Knowing his actions said far more than his words, John felt content with the decision he had made that night long ago and went back to his journaling.